


scars

by towokuwusatsuwu



Category: Crows Zero (Movies)
Genre: Acceptance, Established Relationship, First Love, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Scars
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-15 04:55:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,010
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15405438
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/towokuwusatsuwu/pseuds/towokuwusatsuwu
Summary: shibata carries a past of pain so freely on his chest. ryohei loves every part of him, even the parts other people have rejected him for, and he intends to show shibata just that.





	scars

Kagami Ryohei is, admittedly, out of his element in this relationship. He barely had any friends growing up, squirreled away in a life he never would have chosen for himself until he met Kaburagi Kazeo and had his life forcibly changed for what he by and large considers the better. He has friends, now, somewhere to call home, to come back to at the end of the day. And he has people who love him, more than one, when he never could have imagined having the one in the first place. Such a notion was like a far-off star threatening to burn his fingertips if he stretched for it; Kazeo is like the sun that blazes through his core.

And Kazeo is not even the only man who calls himself Ryohei’s boyfriend, to his amazement. He might have been burning a fierce torch for Kazeo before their confrontation, tunnel vision focused on him in such a way that no one and nothing else could catch his attention, but Ryohei is far from stupid and letting the attention of three beautiful men slip through his fingertips is not how he wants to live his life. It’s how he ends up perched on Shibata Hiroki’s lap, hands braced on his shoulders for balance, fingers twisted in the fur collar of his coat.

Winter had swept through with a vengeance; a coming storm led Shibata to Ryohei’s door with the gentle request to stay the night if he doesn’t mind the company and so little time left to go home on his own that Ryohei could hardly turn him away. He would tell Shibata he never needs an excuse to come stay with him, but such a notion still makes Ryohei’s gut churn with butterflies. Kazeo insists it gets easier with time; Ryohei has to trust him on this.

Though casual affection still comes slowly and with difficulty, Ryohei thought it stupid not to take advantage of having one of his boyfriends in the house. It’s how they end up on his bed, Shibata’s back braced against all of Ryohei’s pillows, pliant and warm under Ryohei’s touch. It’s unusual for him to initiate anything but Shibata seems willing to roll with it, hands light on Ryohei’s waist, mouth warm against his own. He’s patient, takes Ryohei’s slow uncertain kisses and careful touches of his tongue in stride, never hurrying him or rushing him. A saint, certainly.

When he leans back to catch his breath, Shibata’s head falls back into the pillows, a pleased little smile toying with the corners of his full lips. “Enjoying yourself?” he asks, a teasing note in his voice though his eyes burn fiercely and Ryohei squirms at the sight.

“Yes,” he says. It’s true; he likes being here with Shibata, sitting on top of him like this, able to kiss him as he pleases. “Ah, are you? Enjoying yourself, as well?”

“Awkward as always, little prince.” Shibata’s smile is genuine, his voice warm if a little rough and Ryohei bites down on his tongue.  _ He doesn’t mean it as an insult. Relax.  _ “Of course I am.”

Of course. Like the notion is ridiculous to even consider. Ryohei inhales slowly, exhales slowly, and leans in to kiss him again. Kissing Shibata is unlike kissing Kazeo, who keeps his face shaved smooth; the texture of his facial hair is rough against Ryohei’s own skin where it makes contact but the touch is so faint it tickles more than anything else, leaving his lips tingling afterward, a pleasant sensation to carry with him.

He grows bold, fingers toying with the top button of Shibata’s button-down, the black fabric so stark against his warm skin. “Can I?” he asks, bottom lip caught between his teeth.

“I don’t mind.” Shibata’s eyelids slip shut and he looks so relaxed, beautifully so; it makes Ryohei’s breath catch in his throat. “Careful, though. The cold isn’t kind to me.”

Ryohei stills. “What do you mean? Is something wrong?”

“My scars,” Shibata says, opening his eyes once more. “Haven’t you seen them? Goura and Yamashita have both seen them. I assume Kazeo has by this point. Have you not?”

“I don’t think so.” Ryohei frowns. “What scars are you talking about?”

Shibata smiles softly. “Open my shirt. They’re impossible to miss this close.”

The prospect makes Ryohei uncertain but he does as asked, tugging each button through its respective hole until he reaches the bottom of the shirt. A slight tremor enters his hands and he flexes his fingers before opening the fabric, schooling his expression the moment he sees the edge of  _ something _ peeking out from beneath the fabric. Shibata was hardly lying; the scars are impossible to miss, taking up almost the entire left side of his chest.

Ryohei has seen burn scars before but the sight makes his stomach twist uncomfortably, the thought someone out there had hurt Shibata so terribly to leave such permanent scars. If Shibata minds, his expression gives nothing away. Tentatively, Ryohei lays a hand over where he knows Shibata’s heart to roughly be, feeling the texture of the skin beneath his touch.

“What happened?” he asks, and tries to make it not sound so demanding. Sue him if the urge to get revenge has been so ingrained on him as a person he can never shake it.

“Fujiwara splashed me with kerosene. An accident, nothing more.” Shibata tips his chin up and Ryohei’s heart spasms painfully behind his ribs at the thought. An  _ accident _ . “Cold weather can irritate the scars, something about barometric pressure. I’m not smart enough to understand.”

Ryohei worries his lip between his teeth before forcing himself to stop, trailing his fingertips over the scars. “I’m sorry they’re still bothering you, as if the initial injury wasn’t bad enough.”

“Things happen. I can manage, but I’m a bit sore right now. You touching me doesn’t hurt,” Shibata adds quickly when Ryohei jerks his hand back as if burned. At Shibata’s words, though, he goes back to touching him. “I’d rather have you touch me than not.”

“Ah, I’ll keep that in mind.” Ryohei tries to ignore the way his face burns at the words, fingers so careful on Shibata’s skin, so light, afraid to do more damage than has already been done.

Shibata’s eyes close again and Ryohei tells himself to breathe, that Shibata is fine, he’s  _ fine, _ so nonchalant about everything as he always is but he makes it a point to tell all of them if something upsets him. He would be just as honest with this, Ryohei is sure. Shibata would never lie to get the reactions he wants, more honest and open than anyone Ryohei has met in his life aside from Kazeo, no barbed words or protections or walls to hide him away from the rest of the world. So wholly  _ himself _ that Ryohei is selfishly jealous.

“Scars aren’t so bad,” he says, trying to fill the silence between them. “Goura and Yamashita will have scars soon, right? You’ll be like a set, then. You’ll match, in a way.”

Shibata opens one eye, smiles softly up at him. “I hadn’t thought about it that way, but you’re right. We seem to be a package deal as it is, anyway.”

“It’s a good package,” Ryohei says, and Shibata laughs, tosses his head back against the pillows.

He’s beautiful. Beneath the swagger, the fight, Shibata Hiroki is one of the most beautiful men Ryohei has ever seen; the scars do not change this. Rather, they signal that Shibata has strength in him, hidden beneath the softness of his smile and the warmth of his eyes, the strength to survive whatever life throws at him and come out on top every time. Scars never form on something dead; you have to survive to wear the badge and Shibata had not only survived but thrived in the process.

How else could he be right here, lying beneath Ryohei, so open and honest, almost painfully so, with Ryohei’s hands all over the most vulnerable part of his body?

“You’re so quiet. Is there something you’re not telling me?” Shibata looks up at him, his expression more serious now, voice gentle and coaxing.

“It’s… Inspiring, that you suffered this much and yet you’re still here. I’m… I don’t know. It makes me feel something. Don’t look at me like that.” Ryohei ducks his head, all too aware that their current position makes it impossible for him to truly hide.

Shibata chuckles, his hands slipping just under Ryohei’s shirt to fit around his waist, hands pressing into his waist. “There’s my little prince. They’re just scars, you know.”

“I know that.” Ryohei’s voice is small and he clears his throat. “I  _ know _ that but it’s… It must have hurt and you’re still here. It must have hurt  _ bad _ but you’re okay and I don’t know, there’s just something about that. I don’t know what I’m trying to say, okay? I’m bad at this.”

“No, Ryohei. You aren’t.” The use of his name makes Ryohei peek up through his lashes, not sure he heard correctly. “You’re very good considering this is your first time.”

The lack of experience in this relationship is hardly only on Ryohei’s shoulders but he feels embarrassingly bad about things just the same, unable to handle everything as well as the others do. He loves them dearly and he wants to show them that, but he stumbles over words and touches and even the small things seem impossible sometimes. All he wants to do is curl up and hide, face burning, ashamed that he isn’t better for them. But when Shibata looks up at him like this, gaze so warm, open to him, baring himself like this, Ryohei wants to kick himself for being such a coward.

“Thank you.” Ryohei leans down to kiss him, Shibata sighing softly against his mouth.

He dares to slip down just a little, his lips touching the scars on Shibata’s chest so carefully, well aware that the cold makes them sore. It makes him want to ease that pain any way he can, but there’s only so much he can do. So he kisses the scars, his mouth hopefully warm enough to do something, anything. When Shibata’s fingers comb through his hair, he shivers.

When his lips touch smooth skin once more, he sits back up, his cheeks burning so fiercely they must be bright red now, his lips tingling. Shibata’s smile is warmer than it was before but he quickly turns his head when Ryohei meets his eyes. It isn’t fast enough for Ryohei to miss the faint shimmer there, his gut twisting at the sight.

“I’ve done something wrong,” he says, feeling ridiculously small and stupid.

“No, no.” Shibata presses his hand to his eyes, his inhale sharp. “You’ve done the exact opposite of something wrong. The scars don’t bother me. They’re part of my body, and they have been for a while. I’m  _ used _ to them. But other people have… You can imagine.”

Ryohei doesn’t want to imagine. “Are you okay?”

“I’m just… Touched, moved, whatever the word is. That you’re so accepting, no, that’s… That you’re so  _ reassuring. _ ” Shibata laughs and when he looks at Ryohei again, a tear slips down his cheek. “It’s a relief, little prince. There’s always a part of me waiting for the other shoe to drop.”

Ryohei leans forward, cupping Shibata’s face carefully in his hands as he kisses him, slow and careful like Kazeo first kissed him, trying to convey more through actions than he can words. Words are difficult and never quite hit the mark for him but when Shibata’s arms slip around him and pull him in close, he think he might have found a way to say exactly what he meant to without tripping or stumbling this time.

“Thank you,” Shibata murmurs against his lips.

Ryohei kisses him again and again instead of answering him, tasting the shape of Shibata’s smile against his lips long after his mouth has gone too numb to feel anything anymore.


End file.
